


Something Different

by aizia



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3677886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizia/pseuds/aizia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While retrieving a dish that had fallen under the table, Mako makes an interesting discovery:  </p>
<p>Korra and Asami were holding hands; that much was undeniable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Different

As soon as Korra and Asami had returned to Republic City, Tenzin and Pema had announced they would be hosting a dinner. Hospitality was a proud Air Nomad tradition, but Mako guessed there was a thank you wrapped up in there, too. 

They had helped rebuild the Air Nation and risked their lives to restore Aang's legacy. It was a thank you that no one else could give, really.

Across the table, Korra was smiling more than he'd seen her in years. It made sense; Kuvira was off her shoulders, things were peaceful. But he had a nagging feeling there was more to it than that. 

There was something youthful about the way her face lit up when Tenzin had asked about her and Asami’s vacation. Like she was seventeen again.

Mako felt a splash of water on his chin, and turned to his right, surprised. He found Meelo making miniature windstorms inside of the half-empty water glass beside him, slouching in his seat. The airbender tilted a wooden bowl in slow circles once he grew bored of that, the wind never strong enough to tip it over to its side.

Until it was.

The bowl toppled, falling to the wooden floors with a dull thump. Meelo either hadn’t noticed, or was ignoring it, because he went back to his windstorms immediately afterwards.

Mako felt an odd sort of nostalgia as he slid down in his seat to pick up the bowl. Meelo reminded him of Bolin at that age, maybe– energetic, talkative, accident-prone.

He bent himself into a crouching position once under the table, shuffling on his hands and knees towards the bowl. Somehow it had found its way to the opposite end of the table.

Mako lifted his head up once he had retrieved the dish. He realized at that moment that he was on eye level with a pair of hands resting on Asami's thigh. The only person sitting beside her was Korra. 

Korra and Asami were holding hands; that much was undeniable.

Out of instinct, his eyes flicked to the ground. And... that was a mistake. One of Asami’s stocking feet was travelling up and down Korra’s calf.

He must have made a sudden movement, because suddenly there was a loud thud and his head was hurting. Like the initial pounding sensation from a minor hit.

“Everyone alright down there?” he heard Pema’s voice. Mako crawled back to his side of the table, stood up, and lowered himself back on his seat, all eyes on him for a moment. Everything was disorienting. He cleared his throat.

“Meelo dropped a bowl under the table. I was just… getting it for him.”

His discomfort must have been obvious. Both Korra and Asami gave him a funny look before recognition seemed to dawn on the two of them at the exact same time.

In another circumstance, watching Asami and Korra have panicked conversations using only their eyebrows might have been humorous. But the thing about panicked conversations was that they almost never happened in circumstances that anyone involved found funny.

The red on Korra’s cheeks that had been present most of the evening now made sense, and he felt guilty that he had walked right into the reason for it. Like he had seen something private.

Knowing exactly what to say had never been his strong suit, but he knew he had to quell some anxieties; the last thing he wanted was more romantic turmoil between the three of them.

So he met their eyes and smiled, hoping it would convey everything he wanted it to.


End file.
